I hate the outdoors

The February sleet turns to March mud 

A murky pallet of miserable grays and viscous browns

As I climb

My steps across this long, rugged road are uniform and absolute

My face, a complex blend of remorse and discomfort, does her best to morph and mold into something approachable

But this walk, this hike, this trek

Her legs lay limp against a log

Her face, bright red

Heart pounding

Lungs struggling to slow down

Never has she been able to go so far

Never has she been able to push herself without criticism

The path led him to a tree,

His eyes opened wide,

For the tree's roots reached the underworld,

And the branches opened up the skies.

Just to escape the hassle of home.

Just to avoid the whisper-yelling into phones.

Just to burst free from the stifling bedroom she kept with such love.

She set out.

A winding trail.

A gentle breeze.

Flowers bloom.

My smile blossoms.

A hike into the unknown

is just what I need

to clear my head

and heal my heart.

I'll climb and climb

The moment I open the door, the brisk fall air greets me. 

I step into the aromas of nature.

 I recall the deep smell of pines in the winter.

I have walked this path

many times before

 and yet it seems 

so very short ago 

I was 

running to keep up with